Satisfaction
by asteriskss
Summary: Stiles is constantly pining for Derek, Derek is constantly oblivious to Stiles' pining but these two still manage to click. Who'd have thought that his 'awkward' was so alluring.


**A/N**: Inspired by a gif made by Tumblr User: hoechlinth [danielsharman]. This may or may not be made into a multi-chaptered story.

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><p>How long had it been? A few weeks, maybe a month? Stiles wasn't exactly sure but he didn't particularly care since he had become pretty good friends with the hot brunette from his anatomy class.<p>

His name was Derek Hale: dark brown hair, leather jackets, motorcycles, and the best eyes he'd ever seen in his life. He was a bad ass obviously and they had clearly become that whole saying of _'opposites attract'_. It was cliché, but it was also very true. If someone would have told him that he would have the campus' heartthrob with his _fuck me_ messy hair in his bed, he would have laughed in their face and made them apologize for saying such a wonderful thing that would never EVER happen to him.

Oh but it did.

Just not in the suggestively erotic way that Stiles had imagined it on the daily basis.

Most would figure that the pair would have nothing in common- nothing to bond over or even discuss. But surprisingly those naysayers would be proven wrong. Yeah, Stiles didn't ride a motorcycle and wasn't edgy. And okay, he didn't wear snazzy leather jackets or caught people's attention like an underwear model. He drove a fucking jeep for Christ's sakes. But common ground with materialistic interests wasn't what made them click.

What made them click was Stiles' ability to say all of the wrong things and completely make a fool of himself. Derek liked that obviously. So Derek stuck around.

It started when the guy came into class late one day, drenched head to toe from the rain. He surprisingly had taken a seat next to Stiles and had the audacity to run those long fingers through his messy wet bed head. And goodness gracious, that was the third week of class and the guy always strolled in with his '_can I fuck you'_ sex hair. Yeah, Stiles was convinced that's what happened- sex before each and every class. No doubt about it.

If he was being honest with himself, Stiles was content with just observing from afar because that was playing it safe and Stiles was all about being safe. He'd take eye-sexing the guy from a distance over throwing up while attempting to talk to him any day. That was just his logic. BUT meddling friends sort of ruined that comfort zone for him since they didn't believe in his _logic_. The only reason he worked up (more like forced) the nerve to talk to the guy was because Lydia had physically threatened him. She may have been small but the girl was strong. And she was having such a hard time with Stiles' pining and his constant staring at the Hale guy. Plus, the last time he didn't listen to her, he was paranoid for a month that she would assassinate him at any moment.

Actually, he was still paranoid that it would happen.

So he gave in and said something stupid like, "I guess it's still raining, huh?" _Funny, really funny_. But that must have been the best line ever because the guy laughed so hard and Stiles died a little from nerves and just the fact that the guy sounded _so right_ when he laughed like that.

But at some point things changed, he was still having anxiety about Derek but he had found himself inserted into this guy's life in so many unexplained ways. How? He wasn't sure. He was still trying to figure that part out.

All of that was how they ended up where they were now: in Stiles' dorm room sharing a bed after class due to a tornado warning. But the nerves, stupid jokes, and Derek being...well Derek had something to do with it as well.

"You do know you aren't supposed to smoke in the dorms, right?" Stiles said, staring at practically everything but Derek. He could hear him toying with the lighter before actually getting his cigarette lit. "I mean, go outside." He knew the guy didn't stay on campus, but he had to know that smoking in the dorms weren't allowed.

"What? Are you going to tell on me, Stiles?" He grinned and tilted his head back to blow the smoke into the air. "And if you haven't noticed, it's storming outside. It would get soaked and you would owe me a pack of cigarettes."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You're going to taste like an ash tray."

"Well, you aren't tasting me so why are you worried about it?"

Stiles went quiet, eyes shifting around the room to look at something, anything really. "True." His heartbeat sped up and shit, was he sweating? He would chalk that up to his sweatshirt smothering him. Yup, that was it. He cleared his throat and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth before speaking. "I um, I'm just saying, you know?"

Derek hummed in reply as he shifted on the bed, shoving his arm up and behind his head. "Yeah, I'm sure. Just another concerned bystander spreading the word of cancer sticks and their flaws." He grinned and turned his head some to look at the younger male. "Why are you holding your breath?"

Stiles exhaled and honestly, he hadn't even realized that he had been doing that. Things had really gotten out of control. "I wasn't." He said as he narrowed his eyes. "And put out the cigarette, Derek. You're going to kill yourself. Actually, you're going to kill me. Secondhand smokers always die first ironically."

Derek, despite his disagreement on the matter, put out the cigarette and blew at it before tucking it behind his ear. "Better, sunshine?"

"Much."

Derek rolled his eyes and sat up.

Stiles just stared at him for a moment before focusing back on the ceiling. He really didn't understand how he had gotten to this point with Derek Hale of all people.

Because you see, the Hale family was pretty weird. No actually they were flat out weird. It wasn't a bad thing but it definitely made it pretty hard to not want to know more about them. They were a closed off family, kept to themselves and didn't really invite outsiders into their lives. All anyone else knew was that they were this perfect family with a perfect life and oh, they were loaded. But Stiles never dared to ask because there probably was a reason that Derek didn't talk about his family with him. But that didn't make him any less interesting either.

The only problem really was that Stiles had it bad for Derek. He felt like such a creep because it was just the beginning of the semester and he felt like a stalker even though the majority of time, Derek was the one coming to him to hang out. Regardless, Stiles was convinced that Derek was nine times out of ten completely out of his league. So he did what he did best, ignored what he wanted and kept on moving.

"What's up with you? You're all fidgety...and you're doing that thing you do with the lip biting."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Maybe...because you were um...squishing my arm."

"I was barely on you."

"Excuse me, Sasquatch. Have you had someone twice your size lay on your arm? No, I didn't think so." He pushed himself up some onto his elbows and locked eyes with Derek. "And another thing. You-" he was cut off by fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, yanking at him. Then there were soft lips pressing against his own.

"You talk way too much for me to handle." He smirked and brushed his lips over Stiles' before pulling away.

"...I told you that you'd taste like an ashtray."


End file.
